She was broken, running
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: She was running. She was running, she was running. She was always running, feet pounding on stone, breath coming heavy and shallow in her lungs as she sprinted down one corridor and then another. She wanted to stop, wanted to pause, but there was only terror behind her, a terror she didn't want to face. She didn't want to turn around and see what was following her...


_**Written for the 'Summer 2013 Wizarding Modly Forum Wide Competition of Awesome'. (Defense Against the Dark Arts Challenge, Strategy 3, House Hufflepuff, Wand Currently Being Withheld) Please, mods, if I could get my full score. **_

_**Also written for the 'If You Dare Challenge' by Slytherin Cat, using prompt # 101, my worst nightmare. **_

_**This piece contains parts of the song 'London Bridge is Falling Down', by Peter Bradley Adams. Alys is a character of J.K. Rowling's. I own absolutely nothing. **_

….

_"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold."- William Butler Yeats_

….

_London Bridge is falling down  
London Bridge is falling  
My lady fair where are you now  
Cause London Bridge is falling. _

….

She was running. She was running, she was running. She was always running, feet pounding on stone, breath coming heavy and shallow in her lungs as she sprinted down one corridor and then another. She wanted to stop, wanted to pause, but there was only terror behind her, a terror she didn't want to face. She didn't want to turn around and see what was following her, the shadows in the night that smiled so cruelly as they cornered her, until she could only scream in pain. And, so she ran, and she ran, and she ran. Fear gripped her as she went from door to door, tugging and begging for someone to _please _let her in, before the monsters got her. But there was never any answer, just thick silence that sealed her fate, thick nothingness that pushed her away, sobbing. She continued to run, upstairs and downstairs, searching for a way out, a way to hide from the monsters.

"Alys." The voices of terrible, awful monsters call out to her, begging her to turn around, because they only want to play. They only want to play games with sharp knives and wands that cast painful spells; they only want to hurt the young Hufflepuff as she ran, ran, ran away. Alys fled, hearing their footsteps, hearing the clattering of tools that they carried to hurt her. They wanted to kill her, to twist her hair and cut it all off, and bruise her delicate skin. They wanted to scratch at her eyes, and poke at her freckles, and mostly, they wanted her to cry. The terrible monsters that wouldn't stop coming for her, the ones that wanted a corpse, a broken girl.

….

_Build it up with wood and clay  
London Bridge is falling  
But wood and clay may wash away  
All gone before the morning._

_Build it up with bricks and stone  
London Bridge is falling  
But bricks and stone won't last alone  
They'll crumble 'fore the morning._

….

Alys Finch was the sort of girl who had been born terrified. She hated being called out in class, even if she knew the answer, because a dark thought that she had somehow _m_essed up would creep through her, until the twelve year old was left only able to mumble incoherently, and apologise for messing up. She was shy, anxious, and didn't seem able to avoid the horrors of having been born with the sort of face that people just want to call out on her. Teachers seemed immediately drawn to the young girl, their eyes searching her out when it was time to answer a question. And when things went wrong, Alys was the first person who they asked.

She was not a strong girl, not mentally, and certainly not physically. She cried easily, she broke down often, and the other girls in her year, despite being Hufflepuffs, did not seem quite sure what to do with her. It didn't help that they were in the middle of a war, and poor Alys hadn't seen her Muggle father in months. The other girls tried to comfort her, waking up in the night to hug the slight girl, kissing her cheeks and telling her she would be okay. They were there for each other, like a Hufflepuff ought to be, but she still didn't seem to be able to smile. There were permanent tears in her eyes and on her face, and Alys walked with her eyes down.

The Carrows beat her at night, though she had never mentioned that to anyone. After all, the Carrows beat everyone, punishing students left and right, often for no reason at all. The Carrows used whips and their wands, and sometimes, just words. Laughs and taunts, calling her weak and dirty-blooded, and useless. Mocking her house and her heritage. Alys cried profusely, which is what they wanted, and she bled, which is what the Carrows craved. They had found a weak young girl, and she spent her nights in pain, and her morning quiet. The Carrows, and their Slytherin cronies, seemed to eagerly search out students like Alys Finch, who so desperately tried to run away, but couldn't. The Professors Carrow, her darkest nightmares, they had so quickly overtaken. When she finally fell asleep, it was only to dream of dark corridors and awful monsters that would not leave her alone.

….

_Build it up with iron and steel  
London Bridge is falling  
But iron and steel will bend and reel  
And break before the morning_

Build it up with shiny gold  
London Bridge is falling  
But soon the gold will all be stone  
And lost before the morning

….

Alys was running, but it wasn't in a dream. She was running away from the Carrows and their horrible weapons, the maniacal grins on their faces permanently etched into a twelve year old's mind. She was broken, she was so horribly broken, like a doll that could not smile. A wand that could not cast spells, a car that would not run. She was broken, and she was running, running, running, from the whips, from the wands, from the words. She hurt all over, her arms bleeding, but she kept going, because she knew that to stop would only bring more pain. There was no way of escaping, but she ran anyway, because it was the only thing she could do. She was broken, falling apart, her center was gone. There was nowhere else to run. There was nowhere else to run. Only pain behind her, only sadness and hurting and harshness. She was going to die at this school, Alys knew, and she stopped running.

They had won, she had stopped running.

….

_London Bridge is falling down  
London Bridge is falling  
My lady fair where are you now  
Cause London Bridge is falling_

My lady fair where are you now  
Cause London Bridge is falling


End file.
